On a two-wheeled vagabondage adventure, I reunited with my riding buddy in Seattle, and he’s leading us east toward Oshkosh. For those unfamiliar, vagabondage has a direction of travel, like east, but no route or itinerary. Except for one must-see stop: the concrete arrow that pointed air mail pilots toward Boise. Yes, we’re aviation geeks.
Almost a century ago, these arrows, situated with a lighted beacon, guided pilots along the nation’s network of airmail routes. Then radio navigation made them obsolete, and they started to disappear. There’s no small measure of irony involved here that we found our way to this surviving arrow with GPS. Heading to Boise, Idaho, in I-84, it’s off the Simco exit, which leads to the apex of Desert Wind and Regina roads.
As most of us already inside already know, aviation’s present has a problem with fences. Signs warning of federal penalties and security requirements, not to mention locked gates that require secret pass codes, exist to keep people out. They typically overwhelm the signs that attempt to lead aviation wannabes, newcomers, and the aerially curious through the security maze to the knowledge and answers they seek. I didn’t, however, expect aviation’s past to present similar circumstances.
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